


Well, at Least it's Just a Butt

by Band_aid



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band_aid/pseuds/Band_aid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When pictures of Pearl’s (admittedly adorable) butt get out on campus, Amethyst takes some drastic measures. Pearl’s just trying to survive this embarrassing week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a blaring guitar riff echoing in the corridor and by _God_ forgive her, but she will not hesitate to do _unimaginable_ horrors if her roommate does not stop that this instant.

When Pearl takes long, confident strides, she is secure and uninhibited. But the recesses of noise coming from her room give rise for concern; the hallway is normally only forty-seven steps long, but today it’s thirty-three. She sprints, a hand the only shield between exposure and decency, gripping the towel like a lifeline, and the door slams open. Suddenly her ears are filled with profanities and something akin to metal screeching, if it could.

“Jesus holy _shit_ —”

“What are you doing? What the heck is that noise?” Pearl catches herself, knees bent and right hand gripping the doorknob for balance. She can hear rustling outside.

“I don’t know! My alarm just went fucking nuts. I think it’s broken.”

“You play this—this _garbage_ as your alarm?” Her brows furrow and her arms wildly gesture to the criminal who, upon Pearl’s morbid realization, has yet to cease playing. A series of “Fuck!”s and arrangements of throaty screaming make her cover her ears.

That only makes her towel fall down her lithe body, and with a squeal, she rushes down to gather it up and cover her body, cheeks turning purple with embarrassment. Oh God, oh _God_ , the noise is horrible and she can _barely_ hear herself think and Amethyst is laughing like a twelve-year-old.

“Hey, it wakes me up, and it usually isn’t this loud. Maybe you’d know that if you didn’t take showers at three in the morning and came back before nine!” She retorts, fumbling with her phone yet clearly enjoying herself.

“The showers are crowded in the morning, and I’m not going to stand there with a bunch of other naked girls!” She defends, flushes furiously, frowns and stomps her feet in nearly the same exasperated motion. If Amethyst is a twelve-year-old, then she’s eight.

“What, you’re seriously _embarrassed_?” Amethyst snorts, abandoning the phone in pursuit of a much richer experience. “That’s fucking _precious_.”

“Would you,” Pearl lunges for the phone, both hands jumping to action. “Quit being,” She grounds her teeth in frustration, “So _difficult_!”

She heaves, letting the phone fall on Amethyst’s bedsheet in defeat. The noise abruptly fizzles out, and Pearl can finally take in her surroundings without interruption, though she almost wishes she hadn’t. There’s an entire crowd of students in the hallway, some gathered at their door, some frustrated and groaning in resentment, and others giggling and snorting. Pearl counts six girls she can see herself in the dim light of the corridor.

Gathering up her phone, Amethyst’s lips curl into an ‘o.’ “Oh, shit, I think I set the alarm for three _a.m._ instead of three _p.m._ ” Pearl squints in the dark to barely make out a hint of color on the girl’s cheeks.

“Are you—are you serious,” Pearl croaks, gasping for air and too overwhelmed to yell. She runs a hand across her large forehead, grazing her wet hairline.

Amethyst looks stunned for a moment, tilts her head. Pearl tries to follow her gaze to no avail. Then, she grins wickedly. “Didn’t take you for an exhibitionist, P, but _damn_.” She whistles lewdly, and Pearl looks confused for a moment.

Then she looks down. The towel pools around her feet, body still dripping wet, and she doesn’t even want to _describe_ how the rest of her body has reacted to the cold air. She turns, wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights, and jumps to action.

She slams the door shut and turns the lights on, giving Amethyst a clear glance at her butt. She’s sure Amethyst is grinning like a dog.

“I—I’m not—” she stutters, reaching for her towel and flailing for at least a fraction of her dignity that has since shattered by a copious amount of unnecessary cussing and mooning. Her stomach drops as the realization of what exactly just happened hits her.

“Maybe if you actually had _boobs_ your towel’d stay up,” Amethyst shrugged, adding fuel to the fire. She leans back into the pillows of her bed, stretching and folding her arms behind her head. “Still. Kinky.”

“Oh would you just,” Pearl huffs, feet pounding the carpet (and most likely annoying some poor clod on the second floor) towards her dresser, quickly dressing herself in a budding white blouse and teal skirt. She notices that Amethyst has been watching her as she slides on a flat. “S-stop that!”

Amethyst elects to totally and completely ignore that.

 

* * *

 

Well, that was a bit of a fiasco. But it can’t get any worse than _that_ , right?

That’s where Pearl was wrong. Really, she should’ve known better than to think that; it’s a well-known cliché that asking if, by some mysterious turn of events, things can go wrong, then they will. It might as well be a natural law at this point.

Being in her English class, she _really_ should’ve known better, because it was these kinds of clichés she was supposed to know forwards and backwards. So much for studying, so much for _anything_ , really, she might as well say goodbye to her education and go home with her head hanging low; she could’ve sworn she felt all eyes on her anyways when she entered the classroom, large and uninviting.

She takes a seat, tumultuous chatter filling the momentary silence that came to be when she entered. The uneasiness stagnated when the professor came in—late, as usual, Pearl scoffed—and she thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , this might be a normal, everyday class.

The sun was bright through the windows, so she proposed switching seats for the day. She chose a spot further back and on the opposite side, and although she regretted being unable to sit in the front row, at least she was still somewhat close. Morning classes were usually fairly empty, somehow just passing the quota for required students in order for the professor to actually be able to _teach_ the class, which made moving seats much easier. Nobody would get prissy with you for stealing their chair.

Of course, most people were prissy for other reasons, including the unwanted wake-up-call of a six a.m. alarm. Lapis, however, was not one of those people. A night person by default who could somehow function in the morning, she reserved her voice for only when spoken to, and rarely made conversation. They had talked a bit before through some mutual friends.

Pearl sets her bag down, and Lapis gives her a questionable look.

“Sun’s too bright,” Pearl explains, seating herself. Lapis nods, running a hand through her dyed hair.

“Is the essay due today or Thursday?” Lapis asks.

“Thursday, and don’t forget the citations this time.” Pearl smiles. “You don’t want a repeat performance.”

“One angry Professor Callaghan is enough to last a lifetime,” Lapis agrees. “Did you read?”

“Of course,” Pearl says, as though the question were unnecessary. “I can assume you didn’t.”

“No, I did. I just didn’t really understand some bits of it.” She sighs, prodding the book on the table. “It’s so boring. The main girl hasn’t even been introduced and we’re already practically halfway through.”

“It’s a good read. You’ll appreciate it once you get further in.”

“Wait, you’ve read it _before_?” Lapis questions, stunned.

“In high school,” Pearl furrows her brow. “You didn’t?”

“Who the hell reads _Silas Marner_ in high school?”

“Pearl, apparently,” a voice calls behind them.

“Says the one who didn’t read last night’s assignment.” Lapis grins. “I heard we have a pop quiz today, too.”

“A pop—oh jeez.” Fumbling glasses, Peridot turns away from the two and cracks open her laptop on what Pearl can only presume to be sparknotes.

“I’d ask if you could help me, but I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“More important things?” Pearl asks, surprised. What could she possibly have to do today? Did she leave the washing machine running? Or did Amethyst not put her clothes in the bin like she asked? Maybe there was more homework to do in Geology.

“I—” Lapis frowns. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

There’s a collection of “ooh”s behind her, and Pearl turns around to see Jasper and Peridot snickering to themselves. Pearl cranes her neck and notices a few students whispering in the corner of the room, and doubt seeds her stomach.

“Um,” Lapis begins, “some pictures of you are going around.”

Pearl freezes.

“Pictures?”

“Well, sort of. I mean… nobody can really _tell_ it’s you, and I think most if not all of the captions have your name anonymous—”

Her heartbeat sinks to the pit of her gut.

“Oh God,” she whispers, “oh God.”

Going full damage-control, Lapis waves her hands. “No, no! It’s fine, Pearl, really. Nobody can even tell it’s you.”

“ _You_ could!” Pearl hisses through her teeth, staring down at the wooden desk. Her hands clutch at her skirt, forehead pressing against the desk. Let this be a dream, let this all just be a horrible dream. God, what did she do to deserve this?

Lapis remains silent for a moment. “Well, when you wake up the entire dorm at three in the morning with some heavy metal accompaniment, it’s hard to forget. Besides, it’s just a picture. It’ll probably be gone within a week at most. Just give it some time.”

 _Time_. Right. Time. She could be patient. She could _totally_ be patient. It was practically in her blood—what with forty years spent wandering the desert and all. One week, seven days, one hundred sixty-eight hours. Totally doable.

The incident happened on Monday, early morning. Today was Tuesday, so that was already day one crossed off the metaphorical list (well, she had a calendar, so really she had all the power to make it a physical list), and tomorrow was ballet. She wouldn’t have to think about it then, especially if she stayed out of the dorm the entire day. Thursday she had classes again, and her essay was due; she also had to remember to call her mom, since Chanukah was in a few months and she would need to go home for the holidays. Friday would be simple enough, and maybe she could escape the dorms with Garnet on the weekend.

Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she had been overreacting just a little bit.

Maybe, just a little.

 

* * *

 

Garnet’s eyes, hidden more behind a facet of coolness rather than her sunglasses, glance to and from Pearl’s morbid gaze and the image page. Pearl has been tapping on the half-wall without clicking anything else for several minutes, staring at the simple picture. There are a few that have slightly different angles, some that have more “booty” than others, but Pearl has the same horrifying reaction to each and every one of them. Her teeth pull at her bottom lip.

“Yikes.” That’s a pretty big view count.

“Goodness, Garnet, it’s _awful_. I can’t believe someone took _pictures_ of it,” she whines, letting her head fall in her lap, but careful not to damage her laptop.

“I can.”

“Can—can what?”

“I can believe it,” Garnet clarifies, leaning over Pearl’s shoulder, who flinches away with her laptop carefully cradled.

“W—d-don’t _look_ at them! I don’t need all of my friends seeing this too—it’s bad enough _strangers_ are seeing it. God, Garnet, the school year just _started_ two weeks ago, and it’s already gone completely downhill.” She rubs at her eyes. “What am I going to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, Pearl. You just have to wait until the situation dies down.”

Pearl glances to her, offended. “I can’t just do _nothing_! There has to be _something_ I can do. Maybe… maybe I can go to the RA! She could make whoever put those pictures up to take them down, or—”

“Pearl.”

She heaves a cartoonish sigh, letting her shoulders droop in dismay. “I know, I know. But… I just feel so _powerless_ , so _useless_. Can’t you just tell me what to do?”

“Alright. Stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop trying to fix a situation you can’t change.” Pearl rubs a hand over her forehead, then moves down to pinch her nose. The sun isn’t as bright, now, hiding behind a clump of withered, white clouds. But the heat is definitely still there, mixed with the humidity of the nearby beach. It would be unbearable if Pearl wasn’t wearing a tank top and shorts.

“Hey, Garnet, P. What’s up?” On cue, Amethyst nearly makes Pearl jump (and, by extension, nearly drop her laptop on the stone hard ground) and takes a seat next to her. Her shirt flutters with her movement, and Pearl almost instinctively reaches out to fix her falling strap, but resists. Barely. She has more pressing matters than an unsymmetrical shirt. “Man, G, aren’t you hot in that?”

Garnet’s hands move to tug on the collar of her jeans jacket. “I know I’m hot in this.” She winks, and Amethyst slaps the stone wall in a fit of laughter.

“Not now,” Pearl grumbles, refreshing the page constantly. Like it’ll help any.

Amethyst nods almost philosophically. “Right, right, Miss Butt Bummer over here’s still tight about her little three a.m. mishap.”

“Which was _your_ fault.”

“Hey, well,” Amethyst pauses. “eh, I guess that’s fair. At least it was just a butt. Coulda been a lot worse.” She grins. “Way worse. Though I _did_ get more of an eyeful than anybody else, so I guess I should be counting my cards. Or was it chickens. Eggs?”

“Amethyst!” Pearl glares, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, P. Hell, I think you could be more popular than some porn stars.” Amethyst grins, nudging Pearl with her elbow.

Pearl hollows. “Oh God. Oh God, I’m gonna be sick.”

Garnet eyes Amethyst, who shrugs. “I’m just being honest. She’s got kind of a cute butt. But she could really use a bit more beef around the areas that count—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Pearl folds her laptop and stands up, “that’s it. You two can talk about my physical proportions and anatomy where I. Can’t. Hear. And I’m going to go over _there_ ,” she points elsewhere, “so I don’t _have_ to hear. God, Amethyst, do you have to be so crass?”

She doesn’t give Amethyst a chance to answer before walking away, hand gripping her laptop much tighter than she intended. Her dorm was a block down, past the student parking; her books were on the shelf next to the door, as well as next to Amethyst’s half-empty box of chocolates. If she could dodge the busy courtyard and take a shortcut through the bookstore, she might be able to get there without accidentally seeing someone she knew coming out of the library—specifically, Mrs. Rose Quartz. Her stomach hurt when she entertained the thought that she _might_ know about the embarrassingly lecherous photographs—she might just vomit thinking about it.

She’d have to tell her anyways, she supposed. Mrs. Quartz was the RA for her dorm, and there was a pretty big chance that she heard—or maybe even _saw_ herself. Oh _God_. Pearl starts walking faster.

She barely takes six strides away before Pearl catches a familiar sight in the corner of her eye. And then wishes she hadn’t seen it at all.

“Oh, Pearl!” The man calls after, rushing up to her in a hurried sprint. He’s sweating all over, and his face is red. It’s… charming, to say the least. And kind of disgusting at worst.

“Dewey,” she calls him by his last name, “um, hey. What... are you doing?”

“Well, I—I guess you could say I heard the news? I was just here to let you know that if you ever need a friend or someone to help, or, or a shoulder to cry on, you can always let me know.”

Pearl’s face grows cold. “Oh goodness, don’t tell me you—”

“No, no, no, d-don’t worry! I didn’t look, not even a peek!” He’s flustered, trying to appear at least somewhat composed. It’s not really working. Pearl would take pity on him if she weren’t so absolutely horrified herself.

“I—uh,” she stutters, trying to figure out what to say—she can hardly believe _Dewey_ knows about it, and if _he_ knows about it… oh no. “T-thanks…?”

He laughs nervously. “D-don’t mean it! I-I mean, don’t mention it.” He spirals into another nervous chuckle before pointing elsewhere with a sweaty thumb. “I, uh, I’ve got some, uh, business to take care of so, uh, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, sure, I… guess.”

“Cool! Sweat! I mean, sweet!” He sputters, stumbling off elsewhere. Pearl’s lower eyelid twitches, and Amethyst roars in laughter.

“Oh my _God_ , I can’t believe you just said that. He’s totally going to think of that as a date.”

Pearl looks over to her. “A date with no time, no place, no plans? I… don’t think so. Look, I’ve got to get to class,” she says, pulling her laptop to her ribs and scuffling along.

“How does he _not_ realize that Pearl’s gay. She may think she’s fooling everyone, but the only fool she’s fooling is Dewey.” Garnet nods, watching Dewey walk away, then looks down at Amethyst, arms crossed. Amethyst stares after Pearl for some time, then turns back. There's a rather lascivious smile donning her thick lips. She winks.

“What? I hate to watch her leave, but I love to watch her go.”


	2. Chapter 2

This was, quite possibly, the best week of Amethyst’s entire life. Yes, even better than the trip to Disneyland, and _that_ was pretty funny.

As if it couldn’t get _any_ better than seeing her roommate naked (well, she was pretty cute, Amethyst had to admit, despite how funny it was), but seeing the Great Pearl Goldman crumble—oh how the mighty fall—under the pressure of frantically trying to control the situation made her entire week. Maybe it was a little cruel. Just a little. But frankly, Amethyst couldn’t care less; what was a little teasing going to do?

And oh yes, she took every perfect opportunity to tease—gloating about how she saw Pearl’s naked ass, teasing the girl for her lack of upwards bust, and best of all: Pearl was too preoccupied to really fight back. She’d been engrossed in schoolwork and ballet, probably trying to take her mind off of it, and Amethyst was relentless. She usually got the brunt of her predicament with the silent treatment, but even just shutting _up_ Miss Chatterbox was a feat in and of itself. She should be proud; someone get this girl a damn medal.

It wasn’t planned, don’t get her wrong. She truly, honestly didn’t mean to set her alarm for three a.m.—who the fuck would do that? ( _Pearl, apparently_.) In fact, Amethyst was just as surprised to see Pearl as the opposite, and not only because she was practically stark naked. Looking back on it, it sounds like a joke: _so, this girl’s wearing nothing but a towel, running into the room with heavy metal music blaring, and…_

And what? Well, it was situational funny. So maybe it wouldn’t do so well as a joke. But it would make a hilarious story to tell, even if Pearl killed her once she found out she _told_ somebody. She couldn’t tell Garnet, though, since she already saw. Maybe one of her many siblings would appreciate the gold humor. Definitely not a conversation that could take place over the phone, though; she’d have to meet up with them, maybe over the holidays, and explain it over dinner. While everyone’s spitting wine out their noses— _hah_!

Might as well milk this joke for what it’s worth, right? For as long as it lasted (and, subsequently, for as long as Pearl would be upset about it) Amethyst would break every trick out of the book to piss her off and make her blush and it would be _glorious_. Apparently, the situation would last longer than Amethyst originally thought.

Friday began with her first break in what felt like years: no classes (as if she’d go anyways), Pearl was out of the dorm, and Netflix just uploaded the next episode in that girly anime she’d been watching. The week had gone by in a blur of splitting sides and spit takes (Garnet had soda dripping out of her nose for almost an hour), and Amethyst had little to show for it except one of the pictures she had saved to her phone. And made her lock screen. Out of pure irony, she told herself, yes. There was absolutely no other reason.

Amethyst wasn’t exactly fantastic at picking up on body language signals and all that other psychology shit, but she could tell when Pearl was acting weird, at most. She walked in, and instead of immediately moaning and whining about the mess, she just set her backpack on the table and rolled up to the chair, took her laptop out, and totally ignored Amethyst. For a moment, she laid there, thinking eventually she’d notice the dirty plate on the coffee table.

After some time passed, Amethyst peels open a hard candy and throws the wrapper towards the bin, narrowly missing. Still no reaction. She frowns.

From her spot on the couch, Amethyst cranes her neck over the arm and twists with a playful grin. “Hey, P. How was your day? Anyone ask for an autograph?”

Pearl remains silent, though sighs.

“What? Are you feeling guilty? Is it, like, illegal or something in your prayer book thingy to bare your ass? _Thou shalt not moon thine neighbor_?”

Still nothing. Amethyst hears tapping on the keyboard.

“ _Jew’ve_ got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Amethyst snorts at her joke, expecting either a laugh or a scolding, but she gets neither. Pearl ignores her harder, and Amethyst didn’t even know it was _possible_ to give a harsher silent treatment. Her chin rests plump on her hand, pinching her skin. Looking at Pearl, she can almost see something akin to tears brimming in her eyes.

Oh boy. _Ohhh_ boy.

Maybe she’d taken the joke a little too far. Or maybe Pearl was just being a prissypants. Or maybe both.  For all her bravado and indifference, Amethyst always did harbor a softer, insecure spot for her coach of a roommate. As she looked at the girl in tears, Amethyst felt the faint prick of—was it? yep, it was guilt.

 _Just ignore her, it’ll be fine_. Amethyst leans over the arm. _Just leave it be, she’ll pick herself outta this funk_. She opens her mouth to speak, but Pearl beats her to the cut. “No, Amethyst,” she mutters, as though reading her mind, “it’s—it’s alright. Everything’s fine. I’m just… going to finish something and then go out for tonight. You’ll be fine by yourself, right?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands from the table, closing her laptop in the same motion, and goes to the kitchen to wash dishes. There’s only two dishes, but she’s taking her time with them both—and the faucet is on the highest setting. Pearl never wastes that much water. Not unless she wants to drown out whatever Amethyst was going to say. She sighs and leans back into her previous, more comfortable position on the couch, limbs splayed in a groan.

 _Auuugh._ This sucks. It was supposed to be funny and then forgotten just as quickly, but Pearl was making this out to be more than it was. And all it was was a _butt_. She sighs.

Maybe she could just ignore the feeling. The week was almost up, and then Pearl would have to go back to normal—her good old smartmouth self. She’d chastise Amethyst for the mess she made while she was at class and then proceed to clean it up herself. And Amethyst would ask her why the hell do they have to learn what an _“imaginary number”_ is and Pearl would go into great lengths to explain even that. Amethyst would invite Garnet over for some video games and Pearl would, at first, complain, but then get sucked into the fun and loosen herself up. And then they’d watch some _really_ dumb anime and Pearl would probably cry over it.

That night, however, Pearl merely muttered her prayer and went to bed, and didn’t even argue with Amethyst when she interrupted her mumbling as per usual.

Saturday came and for the first time in, well, a hell of a long time, Pearl lacked her usual enthusiasm for book club and stayed home. Something about being embarrassed or worrying someone would recognize her. Really just a bunch of bullhonky. Pearl’d known them all since high school, after all. Amethyst tried to not to pay attention, she _really_ did. But with every day becoming more and more unbearably uncomfortable, she knew that it couldn’t go on like this: she cleaned a bit, but most of her time was spent staring at her computer screen and watching Netflix while eating burnt popcorn (and a helping of some lettuce and other gross rabbit foods before). It was honestly kind of pathetic.

And truthfully, Amethyst felt a little bit pathetic too, beating someone while she’s down. She’d been stressed all week, even though Amethyst thought it just a phase of denial and she’d get over it eventually. Now, it seems like it’s just getting worse.

Damn conscience was going to make her do something nice and thoughtful, wasn’t it?

Yeah, enough’s enough. Pearl’s glum tantrum was starting to affect Amethyst’s mood.

She turned the T.V. off, reached for her phone on the coffee table, and thumbed through until she found Garnet’s number.

_Damn prissypants and her inability to laugh at herself._

 

* * *

 

Going out to eat had been Pearl’s idea, but Garnet strung her along with hints until Pearl suggested it, so in the end, who _really_ got played? Garnet, but only because she paid.

Truthfully, she played it rather well. Pearl thought there was something more to it with how surreptitious Garnet was playing, but in the end it was nothing more than a regular lunch at her usual place with her usual order. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Pearl sets her purse on the shelf by the door and throws her jacket on its hanger in the closet. As September comes, the weather’s been turning ever-so-slightly more chilly, and Pearl easily gets goosebumps. Autumn’s a bit early this year, but she’s not complaining. Weather-talk is a nice distraction over lunch and on the phone, as boring as it is. Some people just can’t appreciate the finer things in life. _Speaking_ of people who can’t appreciate the finer things in life.

She calls for Amethyst in their small dorm room, but finds that the walking tornado isn’t here. Surprising, since today is Sunday, and that’s usually her “turn up the music really, _really_ loud and play video games” day. There’s an obvious trail of M &Ms where she _was_ , though, as well as a half-eaten bag of popcorn. She left the TV on too, and her purple underwear lies strewn across the couch arm. Charming.

Throwing herself into school work immediately, Pearl copies her research notes into a word document. She’s trying extraordinarily hard not to open up the page she knows she wants to open. It’s proving difficult. She’s only opening the internet for schoolwork; she just needs more research, right. Ignore the _recently visited_ section of the new tab, just ignore it—

Oh, who is she kidding? Something’s clawing at her, nagging her to check. She shouldn’t; she really shouldn’t since this defeats the purpose of moving past it, but she can’t help it. The picture loads and an embarrassed whine croaks in her throat when she realizes that it has even more views than before. Her heart sinks further when she’s noticed the _comments_. Okay, time to shut it off and get to work. There was no point in beating herself up over this.

Something compelling keeps her from closing the page, though. A miracle, maybe, she’d tell herself later. Something she’d treasure forever, maybe. She scrolls through the page, eyes flickering and skimming over everything until she catches the “recommended”portion of the sidebar. There’s a few images, but one in particular looks almost familiar.

_Is… is that Amethyst?_

Pearl clicks on it, brows furrowing. After a severely frustratingly long loading time, the image pops up. Or rather, several images pop up. The first one is most definitely Amethyst, picking her nose. She either doesn’t realize she’s being photographed or is _pretending_ not to notice, and Pearl doesn’t know which is worse. Scrolling further down, there’s another of Amethyst sifting through the fridge with a beer in hand and her pajama shorts conspicuously trailing down her thighs, revealing a rather embarrassing butt crack. Pearl snorts, covers her eyes as though she’d been blinded by God’s holy light, but peeks between her fingers. The viewcount is astoundingly high.

The _best_ one, though:

Amethyst running through the courtyard, naked, and being chased by a security guard. Now _that_ was a doozy.

In the midst of her giggle fit, her phone buzzes. It’s Garnet. Pearl snorts and tries to compose herself, but it’s only a text message.

_“Amethyst told me to tell you to check the bar.”_

Pearl stands from the chair, furrowing her brows. The bar is a somewhat taller countertop in their “mini-kitchen,” (which was really more like a dining room/kitchen/living room set mashed together) and was also where they typically left notices in case one was out for the day. She searched the counter for a bit until she found it.

Pearl flushes. It’s a picture, professionally printed out and everything, signed in red ink:

_hope this helps you nerd ;)_

And, of course, she signed the winky face right over her (admittedly adorable) butt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that was a doozy.
> 
> this was originally intended to be a joke fic. it kinda went off-course.


End file.
